1 Give me the book, said the stranger.
2 Princess Mary took a book and began reading.
3 The princess bent over the exercise book on the table.
4 She put down the geometry book and eagerly broke the seal of her letter.
5 Read the mystical book I am sending you; it has an enormous success here.
6 She turned to go, but he stopped her with a gesture and took an uncut book from the high desk.
7 He took the exercise book containing lessons in geometry written by himself and drew up a chair with his foot.
8 The servant handed him a book which Pierre took to be a devotional work, and the traveler became absorbed in it.
9 Next morning when the valet came into the room with his coffee, Pierre was lying asleep on the ottoman with an open book in his hand.
10 Though there are things in it difficult for the feeble human mind to grasp, it is an admirable book which calms and elevates the soul.
11 He led him to the desk, raised the lid, drew out a drawer, and took out an exercise book filled with his bold, tall, close handwriting.
12 She did not venture to ask any questions, and shut the door again, now sitting down in her easy chair, now taking her prayer book, now kneeling before the icon stand.
13 All at once the stranger closed the book, putting in a marker, and again, leaning with his arms on the back of the sofa, sat in his former position with his eyes shut.
14 Coming out of Kutuzov's room into the waiting room with the papers in his hand Prince Andrew came up to his comrade, the aide-de-camp on duty, Kozlovski, who was sitting at the window with a book.
15 "He exists, but to understand Him is hard," the Mason began again, looking not at Pierre but straight before him, and turning the leaves of his book with his old hands which from excitement he could not keep still.
16 The old man was beside himself: moved the chair on which he was sitting noisily backward and forward, made efforts to control himself and not become vehement, but almost always did become vehement, scolded, and sometimes flung the exercise book away.
17 "Well, madam," he began, stooping over the book close to his daughter and placing an arm on the back of the chair on which she sat, so that she felt herself surrounded on all sides by the acrid scent of old age and tobacco, which she had known so long.
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